


The Gift

by SapphireBlueJiyuu



Series: The Domestication of Wolves (in times of peace) [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/pseuds/SapphireBlueJiyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willas does not come home empty-handed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

Willas awoke feverish. The maester said that it was from the strain he had been placing on his injured leg these last couple of days as they were trying to make a speedy return from Oldtown. As much as he loved being with his extended Hightower family, he could not bring himself to stay there for longer than a few weeks, else he would miss his wife and their sons too terribly. He wanted nothing more than to return home to his family and curl his wife in his arms once again after they had placed Edwyn and Brynden down for the night.

 

He must have been dreaming because he feels her hands caressing his cheek as he tries to push through the haze of the fever. Her hands were blissfully cool against his heated skin and he couldn't help but sigh and lean into her touch. “Sansa...” His voice was hoarse, her name sounding more like a plea than an acknowledgment.

 

“Sleep, my lord. You are safe now. I have sent for food but until then, please just sleep.” Her voice carried the winter winds with it and he imagined that mayhaps the sound of snow falling on the branches of a pine tree would be similar to that of the heavenly voice his lady wife possessed.

 

“Sansa... I have missed you so...” Willas' hand reached out for her and was not disappointed when it grasped her soft cool hand, their fingers entwined before falling upon the soft feather bed.

 

“And I you, my lord. There will be time to regale your trip to Oldtown on the morrow. But for now, rest. I promise you, I will be here.”

 

“I brought a gift for you...” Willas managed to say as the effects of what he assumed was poppy milk began to slowly pull him under again.

 

“I will be glad to accept it later, my lord– ”

 

“I know that she will not replace your first direwolf, and she is not nearly as large as direwolves can grow to be, but she is, I believe, the same coloring as you described to me. She's in the kennel...” Willas said tiredly, hoping he was making some sort of sense.

 

Sansa was silent for a moment, her eyes wide at the actualization of what he was implying before they began to shine with fresh tears. She graced him with a watery smile, as bright as the sun on a rainy day.

 

Leaning forward, she placed her warm lips to his forehead and whispered, “Thank you, Willas.” Her voice was the last thing that he heard before letting the pull of sleep tug him into it's cool depths.

 

Highgarden may be her home now, but Sansa is the North that brings comfort to the tepid days of the south. And Willas loves her all the more for it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Because I am still not over Lady's death.


End file.
